Her aunt was a long time before she answered. “Where should we go?” Knowing that they would be dogged wherever they went, she volunteered, “Let’s go to the Big Apple. “The ones Cariolus did for me. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. Her steps slowed. It was among artistic people. Mauled about!” She fell to rubbing her insulted lips savagely with the back of her hand.
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